


Desideratum

by ladydragon76



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Fanfiction, M/M, Rating: NC-17 - Freeform, character: blurr, character: drift, character: wing, genre: angst, genre: drama, genre: hurt/comfort, smut: sticky, verse: idw, warning: au, warning: canon- what canon?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-27
Updated: 2013-06-27
Packaged: 2017-12-16 08:33:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/860098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragon76/pseuds/ladydragon76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> Wing’s alive, but Drift isn’t quite as excited to see him as he expected.  Blurr’s fascinated by it all, and just has to be in the middle of everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desideratum

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hellkitty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellkitty/gifts).



> **‘Verse:** IDW  
>  **Series:** None  
>  **Rating:** NC-17  
>  **Characters:** Drift/Wing/Blurr  
>  **Warnings:** An AU twisting of canon to suit my equally twisted imagination. Sticky smut.
> 
> **Notes:** Originally posted [here](http://the-fic-trader.dreamwidth.org/49477.html) and written for the TF Gift Exchange 2013 round for Hellkitty.
> 
> To Hellkitty: ^_^ I really hope you enjoy this! I’ve had the vague idea for quite some time, but no real inspiration to write it, then found out I had you and BAM! Attack of the bunnies. It only helped that you’d recently made a comment about Wing’s canon personality that totally made me rethink the plot, so thank you! ♥

“I really don’t like this.”

Dai Atlas didn’t either. “It must be done.”

Wing would either leave with Drift, or Drift would stay and continue to lead Wing astray- not that the jet needed much help in that arena- and the city would suffer with them both. Too often did Wing place the good of the one over the good of the many. His spark was in the right place, but he risked too much, and even with this sudden change of spark in Drift, Dai Atlas would never again rest well were the Decepticon to stay in New Crystal City. This had to be done.

“Are you absolutely certain?”

“Yes,” Dai Atlas replied, voice ringing with a finality and confidence he did not feel. “Wing will understand that we do this for his own good.” Eventually.

~

Dai Atlas bid Drift farewell, then watched the shuttle until he could no longer see it. He waited until he was informed it had made the jump into FTL.

“Dai Atlas, we should hurry.”

“Yes. Take Wing to medical. Ready him, but wait until I am there before waking him.” Dai Atlas listened as they moved to obey, Axe giving him a tight, pressed-lip almost-glare before moving off. None of them were happy, and Dai Atlas did not blame them. He was not happy. Wing was likely to be something a bit more than merely ‘not happy’.

He sighed, watching the sky, waiting to be told the shuttle had returned, but when nothing but silence surrounded him, Dai Atlas admitted to himself he was stalling, and went to wake Wing and explain the situation.

~ | ~

“Well, hello~” Blurr purred as he caught sight of a white mech across the space station bar.

//Hey, Drift.//

// _It’s been three minutes, Blurr._ //

//Huh?// Primus love the glitch, but sometimes Blurr really didn’t understand the things Drift said. At first it’d made him feel stupid, now he just brushed it off as one of those quirks one learned to live with in a lover. Particularly one as good as Drift. //Never mind. So I’m in the bar and there’s this sexy piece here that kind of looks like you.//

Blurr wove through the mechs, taking in the view, the way the mech sat, how his table mate sat. Table Mate was trying to pick up the Pretty by the looks of things, and Blurr smirked. _Not for long, slagger,_ he thought.

// _Looks like me?_ //

Blurr winked at a passing serving mech as he caught two glasses of high grade off a tray, sniffing them quickly to be sure they were decent quality. “Start me a tab, sweet.” //Yeah. White. Fancy, antique-looking armor. Ooo~ Gold optics.//

There was silence on the comm as Blurr reached the table. He slid into a chair next to Table Mate and across from the white mech, placing one glass between them on the table. “You’re beautiful,” he said, smiling that perfect, practiced smile that melted struts and made sparks pulse.

//Frag me. He blushes when you call him pretty,// Blurr snickered over the comms.

“Thank you.” The white mech looked at the high grade, smiling softly. “And thank you.” He took a sip, so Blurr did as well.

Table Mate reset his vocalizer, so Blurr turned just enough to look at him. “Hey there,” he said, and offered his hand. “I’m Blurr.” He looked back over at Pretty. “Only here for a short time while the ship picks up some supplies. Wreckers never rest after all.” He let his helm roll to look over at Table Mate again, his smile sliding into something… not as bright and friendly.

“I’m Wing. A pleasure to meet you, Blurr. I was just telling-”

“Yeah, I gotta go. Good luck on your search.” Table Mate was already standing, moving away.

Blurr snickered, turning fully back to Wing with the pretty, slanted golden optics. Primus, he really was gorgeous. Wing, huh? Oh, yeah, right there on his back, folded down. Fancy. Fairly apt name too, but hey, Blurr fit his as well, so who was he to judge?

“Uh…”

Blurr just shrugged and sipped at his high grade. //Drift, you gotta see him. I’m thinking he needs to be right in the middle between us tonight.// “So you’re… looking for someone?”

Gold optics blinked, the smile returning. “Yes, I am. I’ve been searching for years now, but no one seems to know him.”

Blurr tilted his helm. Well, that wasn’t quite the answer he was expecting, but all right. He could work with it. “I’ve been all over the galaxy. Maybe I can help. And even if I can’t, I promise to be a very good consolation prize for a few hours.”

Interest shaded Wing’s face, optics sweeping over Blurr’s body. Blurr leaned back in his seat to oblige the inspection. “Racer?”

“Once upon a time,” Blurr replied. “Still the fastest mech alive though.”

“I’m afraid I never did get to attend or watch many of the races. My time was consumed with training and study.” Wing drank more of the energon, then set it down on the table, cupping it between his hands to twist it back and forth. “First, I’m hoping you _can_ help me.” The smile faded to a sad little look that made Blurr want to suck on those pouty lips. “The last time I saw hi-”

Wing’s optics went huge and round, a sharp gasp sounding as he stood. Blurr was slightly annoyed, but then spotted the swords at the mech’s hips, and made the leap. Turning, he wasn’t even surprised to see Drift, or the stunned expression. There was more too, emotions flickered almost faster than Blurr could label them. Shock, lust, anger.

Fear.

The fear got him. Drift was pretty frelling fearless, so if he had _any_ reason to fear this mech, then Blurr needed to be on his feet.

“Drift.”

Blurr almost didn’t hear him over the noise of the bar. He stood and waited because Drift was still moving forward. He slapped on a smirk, and laughed lightly. “Look! I was able to help.” He stepped toward Drift as he reached the table, gliding on light feet behind his fellow Wrecker so he could drape an arm over one shoulder and rest his chin on the other. Blurr’s free hand stroked lightly down Drift’s side, a single finger made a slightly firmer press over his subspace. Blurr was armed, his blaster in his own subspace, he was on alert, and he would fight if Drift needed him to. Drift pressed back against him just a little. Just enough.

“Wing. You were dead.”

Gold was startlingly liquid as Wing shook his helm. “I’m so sorry, Drift. It was… I… Perhaps there is somewhere more private we can speak?”

“I have a rented room we can use.” Blurr was not leaving Drift alone with this mech.

Wing’s wing panels shifted and twitched, and he looked a little unhappy at the ‘we’, but finally nodded. “That would be better than here.”

Blurr hooked an arm through Drift’s, smiling and gesturing toward the bar’s exit. It was telling that Drift allowed the proprietary touching in public, and that set off all kinds of warnings for Blurr. //I can comm Springer for an alert?//

//No. Not yet.//

Blurr led the way to his rented room, letting Wing and Drift precede him in. “So~ I bet there’s a good story here,” he said as the silence stretched.

Drift remained standing, so Blurr parked his aft on the edge of the small desk near him.

“Dai Atlas feared for New Crystal City,” Wing began, but stopped at the sound of Drift’s angry growl. “I’m not excusing his actions, Drift,” he continued when Drift quieted and crossed his arms over his chest. “I was never dead. Though I’m told I wasn’t supposed to have ever come so close to it. They threw their plan together very quickly.”

“Why are you here?” Drift asked.

That seemed to give Wing pause. He blinked again, helm tipped in genuine confusion. “I left to find you.”

“Got that. Why?”

Blurr almost felt sorry for the mech as his mouth hung partly open, wordless, expression lost.

“I- You are important to me, Drift.”

Silence rang in the room, and Blurr waited, wondering how this was going to play out. Drift didn’t talk about his past. Ok, Drift barely talked at all, but he _never_ spoke about that gap of time after leaving the Decepticons and before running into the Wreckers.

“Are you even real?”

Wing’s optics popped wide. “Of course I am!”

“Yeah? _Are_ you the real Wing? How do I know this isn’t some last revenge from Dai Atlas?”

Wing’s mouth worked in silence again, then his optics dropped. Blurr wondered at the mech, how he could look so forlorn without really slumping. He made Blurr want to walk over and cuddle him, tell Drift to stop being so mean.

“It’s a fair question,” Blurr said, modulating his tone to play peacekeeper. “There’s a high price on every Wrecker’s head. Drift especially because he started out as a ‘Con. Megatron wants him pretty bad, so it’s not out of the realms of possibility that he’d dig up a mech from Drift’s past and send in a mole.”

Wing stared at Blurr with wide, shocked optics. “It’s just,” he glanced at Drift, and his smile was the sort meant to hide pain, but that failed miserably. “This isn’t quite the reunion I’ve been envisioning for so long.” He stood, which made both Drift and Blurr tense, and gave himself a little shake.

“It’s me, Drift.” Wing glanced at Blurr, then back. “There is no one that could know about that night in my quarters.” His voice dropped to a purr, and Blurr smirked. He wasn’t the jealous type because he had nothing to be jealous about, but it was always fun to watch mechs think their ‘secrets’ about a previous relationship would upset him. “You let me,” another glance, “take your valve after binding you to the berth.”

Drift’s face colored a pale pink as energon heated it. “What color was the cord?”

“Blue. Almost the shade of your optics, but darker. The room was almost lightless, and we were so exhausted, I could barely get my fingers to work to untie you when we finished.”

Drift dipped his chin in a brief accepting nod. “So how are you alive?”

“I never died. Dai Atlas told me he feared for the city. For me. He wanted you to leave, but wanted me to stay.” Wing shrugged a shoulder. “He wasn’t wrong. Once I was recovered enough, I left. No words or debates about my vows could sway me.” He bit at his lip, trying not to scowl. “I understand why he felt he had to act as he did, but I don’t approve. I certainly don’t need anyone making my life choices for me.”

Blurr tipped his helm at the sudden incredulous look on Drift’s face.

“Not so fun when it’s you, is it?” Drift asked, voice almost a growl. Blurr straightened, standing to be more _there_ for Drift, but didn’t move closer. Wing blinked. “You don’t even see the hypocrisy, do you?”

“Drift!” There was hurt and shock there, but Drift just shook his helm.

“Why are you here? What do you want from me?” he asked.

Blurr opened a comm to Springer, filling him in on the situation whether Drift thought he needed to or not. A mech that would traipse over the ‘verse just to find Drift, and then look at him with all that emotion and hope and hurt in his optics wasn’t someone that was going to just _let_ Drift walk away.

Springer sighed. // _Bring him if he’s willing, and return to the ship. We’ll have Perceptor look him over for tracking devices. Better to keep him close, I guess._ //

//Ok.// Blurr stepped back, hand half coming up to his audial, helm tipping as though just getting a comm. “We’re being recalled. Springer wants us back.”

Wing’s optics widened once again, mouth parting to protest.

“Why don’t you come with us?” Blurr invited, smiling. He moved toward Drift, lacing his fingers through his so he could squeeze and stop the protest. “I mean, you’ll have to talk to our commander, and Springer’s kind of a stickler for rules, but at least then you and Drift can catch up.”

The sudden expression of hope was almost painful to see. //Who is this mech?//

//I’ll explain later.// Drift sounded tired and resigned. “Come on. Better not keep them waiting. Could be a mission or something.” He turned, tugging Blurr’s hand, but releasing it once they were out of the small room.

Blurr glanced back at the closed door. So much for those creds. He sighed softly, then began an idle conversation with Wing about all that studying and training that kept him from enjoying the most awesome of sports.

~ | ~

Blurr woke as his door slid open, the dim off-shift lights from the corridor silhouetting Drift’s frame before the door hissed and beeped as the locks engaged.

Interesting, Blurr thought as he waited for Drift to reach him. There wasn’t the slightest whisper of sound until the thermal blanket Blurr recharged under was lifted. “Hi,” he said, voice still muzzy and sleepy, but Drift’s hand pushing at his shoulder to roll him back. Drift’s body stretching out over his brought him more fully awake.

“Need you.” Drift’s mouth was hot, demanding and almost possessive on Blurr’s neck.

“Know I’m yours.” Blurr received a light grunt in response, and let his legs spread when Drift pushed a knee between them. "You’re with _me_ though, right?”

Drift paused, helm lifting, blue optics glowing above Blurr. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You can go to him if you want.” Blurr slid his hands around Drift’s back, noting the missing sword. “I want you. Always want you, you know that, but if you want that pretty piece, I’m not going to be angry. Primus knows I want to push him down on a handy solid surface and ride for glory.”

“Talkin’ too much.” Drift tucked his face back in against Blurr’s neck, sucking at the cables.

Blurr chuckled, lifting his legs to wrap around Drift’s waist. When Drift whispered his name and rocked their hips together, Blurr pulled him into a hard kiss and retracted his interface cover. Drift was all heat and passion and driving thrusts, rocketing them both to an overload that came too soon, but left Blurr sated and sleepy anyway.

Drift shifted to the side, tugging the blanket back up over Blurr, then curling around him. Blurr was mildly surprised when Drift snuggled in. He did remain somewhat tense, however, so Blurr asked, voice edged to a slightly pleading tone, “Stay with me?” Drift was an odd one at times. He didn’t ever seem to like asking for what he needed, but Blurr had no problem doing it for both of them. He had gotten pretty damn good at reading the subtleties of Drift.

Drift’s vents cycled, his body relaxing, almost melting against Blurr’s. “’Kay. Just this once though.”

Blurr nodded, tipping his face up to kiss Drift’s mouth. Another point against Wing as far as he could see. Drift just _didn’t_ stay in his quarters with him. He didn’t often let Blurr stay over in his. They were lovers, fairly steady at that, and Blurr was certainly attached. He thought Drift might be too, at least in so much as he could be with all that Decepticon and gutters baggage of his. Blurr figured one day he’d convince Drift he didn’t care about all that, or maybe he already had if Drift sought him for comfort over this whole Wing situation?

He knew Springer and Perceptor had finished with Wing, given the mech a room, and told him when he was allowed out of it and where he was permitted go. Wing was cordial, all smiles and excitement and gratitude. He had no comms, no swords either, and had submitted to a complete subspace inspection without a single word of complaint. The mech was odder than Drift. Too open, too… sweet for how Drift was reacting to him. It was setting everyone on edge, and Blurr wanted to know more.

“Tell me about him?”

“Not tonight,” Drift whispered in reply. “Too soon.”

Blurr didn’t want to relent, but he knew better than to push Drift, and he sure didn’t want him deciding to leave. He brushed another light kiss over lips he was sure were frowning, then tucked his face in against Drift’s neck, purring softly. He clung to consciousness until Drift relaxed again, then let himself drop back into recharge.

~ | ~

Wing left his room as soon as he was allowed, and went straight to the common room. He’d been given a code for energon from a dispenser, so got a cube and took a seat to wait.

It wasn’t long before the Wreckers, as they called themselves, began to filter in. They were loud, laughing and jostling one another, pushing to get to the energon first. They all looked at Wing, but none spoke to him. Some even eyed him suspiciously. It wasn’t until Blurr bounded into the room that Wing was actually acknowledged.

“Hey, Pretty. Recharge well?” Blurr skipped by a large single-opticked mech, tweaking an audial horn as he passed, smiling at Wing and deftly avoiding a swipe from the large mech’s hand.

“Yes, thank you.” Not terribly well, but Wing’s mind had spun constantly. Still Drift was here, and that knowledge helped him settle.

Blurr proceeded to the energon, drawing a cube, but that was when Drift entered. Wing’s spark flipped over in its crystal, but Drift didn’t even look at him. He tried not to be hurt. He knew he should be happy that Drift had moved on in his life, found someone, but it still stung to watch his arm curl around Blurr’s waist. To see the bright smile on the racer’s face as he tipped his cheek for Drift’s kiss.

“Good morning, Drift,” Wing said as Drift turned, appearing as though he was just going to leave with the energon Blurr had handed him.

Drift glanced at Wing, said, “Yeah,” then all but fled. The others had recognized it as odd behavior too.

“Don’t frown so,” Blurr said, his fingertip tracing the side of Wing’s face. “Drift’s the moody sort, and he’s still processing your miraculous return to the land of the living.”

“I was never dead.”

“Ah! But he didn’t know that, did he?” Blurr said, and winked as he dropped into a seat beside Wing. “Anyway. How’d you expect him to act after all you did to him? I mean sure there’s the good, but your methods… Drift doesn’t like being forced into things.”

Wing stared at the blue mech. How much, and just _what_ in Primus’ name, had Drift told Blurr about him? “I saved him from the slavers.”

Blurr nodded. “I know. And Drift does too. But then there’s Dai Atlas~ That whole _making_ him do things~” He flicked a hand off to the side.

Wing’s frown deepened. He couldn’t tell if Blurr was just this dismissive or if he was angry and trying to hide it while getting Wing’s side of the story. “Dai Atlas was upset that I’d brought Drift into the city, but what else could I have done?” His hands spread, and he realized others were listening too. “Drift was badly damaged.”

“Hey, I get that,” Blurr said, leaning back to kick a long leg up onto the table. “And I’m sure the medics there in a neutral city didn’t have all the right parts, but… Well, slag. Completely reconfigure me, take my identity? I’d be fragged off too. I mean, you guys could have at least let him keep his red optics?”

“Red means Decepticon.” Wing shook his helm, confused. Why were they discussing something so… unimportant?

Blurr shook his helm. “Nope. Red means better vision in low light. Your medics stole a primary defense from Drift.”

Wing frowned. “They didn’t _steal_ it.”

Another dismissive hand flick. “Semantics. He’s _completely_ different from who he used to be, just by the rebuild alone.”

“But that was necessary,” Wing insisted. “And what was so great about him before? He was a Decepticon, which, admittedly isn’t much worse than-” Wait. He probably shouldn’t say that, but by the way all the mechs around him tensed, he didn’t need to finish the statement.

“I just mean, it was a clean and fresh start. And look how well he’s done for himself.” Wing tried to smile at Blurr, but was sure the expression failed. “I mean, he has you now. I’m sure that is worth something.”

Blurr shrugged a little. “Means to an end, but it’s a precarious life being a Wrecker. We’re expendable.”

“No mech is expendable.” Wing could say that with absolute conviction. “It was worth it to save Drift. I know it wasn’t ideal for him, but it was good, and it was worth it! I would save him again if I had to do it all over.”

Blurr nodded, smile going just a little dreamy. “And I, for one, am very grateful. But there was more than just the rebuild, and you know it.”

“No one ever claims enlightenment is easy.”

“Wow,” said a white and blue mech in a flat tone.

“Right?” another with the same colors snickered.

Blurr grinned over his shoulder. “I’m not against ‘Cons being enlightened not to murder us.”

Wing shook his helm a little. “We couldn’t let him leave before he understood the value and importance of what we’d built in New Crystal City. To just fix and release a Decepticon would have put the city and the entire populace at risk.” He dropped his optics to the table. “I’d already done that just by being on the surface. Keeping Drift, trying to help him see a different life than one of violence and death, was my attempt at amends. I also taught him a valuable combat skill.”

“True enough, mech,” said the visored blue and white mech, “but Deadlock was a crack shot. Now Drift just dives in with swords, and hacks and slashes.”

“There is honor in the risk to one’s own life in battle.”

The mech with only one optic snorted. “When the frag is being in battle _not_ a risk?”

Blurr laughed. “Yeah, but have you ever _really_ watched Drift dance around those blades of his?” He fanned himself, then winked at Wing, voice purring. “Makes me hot just remembering.”

“Is there anything that doesn’t make you hot?”

“Other than you, Whirl?” Blurr dropped his helm back, arching to look at Whirl upside down. “Not much.”

Laughter rang around the room with the sound of a weapon charging. Wing tensed, but his swords were gone. _This_ was why swords were better. If Whirl was angry enough-

“Never mind him,” Blurr laughed, optics returning to Wing, completely unconcerned as Whirl grumbled behind him. “Back on topic. Drift learned a lot, no doubt about it. But was the _way_ he learned it right?” A shrug. “Doesn’t seem like it if he’s not tackling you. Pits, I can barely keep from jumping your struts. So if you and Drift were so close, then what’s the twist?”

Wing shook his helm. “I don’t…” He looked around the room. “I think those details are something that should not be discussed in a group setting.”

“Why not?”

Wing frowned. “I am uncomfortable discussing it.”

Blurr tipped his helm, accepting. “S’ok. I know enough about that.” He grinned. “And you’re right, I guess. Drift wouldn’t appreciate it. He’s not as… open as me about his exploits.”

“No one is, Blurr,” the blue and white mech with the twin drills laughed.

Wing stood as Blurr shrugged, unconcerned. “I’d like to use the training room, if that’s all right?”

Blurr nodded. “Sure. Want me to show you where it is?”

“That’s Blurr-speak for ‘let me get you alone for some fun’.”

“And since when do I concern myself over an audience?”

Wing headed for the door, leaving the bantering and laughter behind. It looked like he had some adapting to do. These mechs were very… different. He didn’t want to label them crude, but the close quarters they lived in certainly seemed to remove any sense of decorum or boundaries. He was, however, a little surprised when Blurr left him at the training room door with a wave.

Wing indulged himself in watching the graceful sway of hips as Blurr moved down the corridor and rounded a corner. Blurr would be a good ally to help him with Drift, but only if he managed not to alienate the mech, or seem like he was trying to push between them. Maybe? Blurr certainly seemed friendly and willing to hear Wing out.

Wing shook his helm. He would train a little, then meditate. Perhaps the answer would be found if he could just quiet his mind enough to hear it.

~ | ~

Drift looked up from cleaning his sword as Blurr entered his quarters.

The racer’s optics widened a little in surprise. “So this is where you’ve been hiding.” The door slid shut behind him, and Blurr crossed to his berth, lifting the sword away from Drift.

Brazen slagger.

“You’re so cute when you get all scowly.”

Drift narrowed his optics further, but all Blurr did was snicker and climb into his lap. It was difficult to stay irritated as the graceful frame curled into him, but he tried. “I was cleaning that.”

“It frelling sparkles, love, leave it.”

Drift laid back as Blurr pushed at his shoulders. He ran his hands over blue plating, angling his helm to kiss warm, willing lips. What was he going to say? Oh yeah.

“Not hiding,” Drift murmured, licking out, trying to deepen the kiss, but Blurr pulled back.

“Ri-i-ight. Because you always shine your sword in my room when I’m not around.”

Drift smirked. “You inspire sword shining?” He rocked his hips up, hands tightening on Blurr’s waist. It earned him a snicker and kiss to the tip of his nose, but then Blurr rolled to the side and snuggled in.

Odd. Kisses and touching led to interfacing one hundred percent of the time with the racer. Drift twisted to his side to face Blurr.

The silence stretched and Blurr just watched him. Drift knew he was scowling again, and wondered how in the frag Blurr had managed to cultivate the reputation for being impatient. Slagger could outwait a… something way more patient than Drift.

“I wasn’t hiding.”

“He’s in the training room.”

“Don’t care.”

Blurr snorted, optics rolling. “He told us a little in the common room this morning.”

Drift tensed. “ _Who_ is ‘us’?”

“Me, Twist, Spin, Whirl. Perceptor was there-”

“What did he say?” Drift growled leaning up over Blurr.

“That he saved you. That he’d do it again. That he won’t tell the kids all the sordid, smutty details.” Blurr winked, fingers tracing a transformation seam. “Had him believing you already told me all of that anyways.”

Drift felt his face burn. “I don’t-” He sighed. It didn’t really matter that he didn’t want to talk about it. Not even _think_ about it. It was there and not going away, and with Blurr being a sneaky little fragger, he’d learn what he wanted to whether Drift told him or not.

Blurr’s grin faded and he leaned in to kiss Drift lightly. “Loved him?”

Drift shrugged. “No? Maybe? Frag if I know. Never loved anyone.” And slag. That was _real_ hurt on Blurr’s face, not the affected, practiced expressions he used most of the time. “What?” he asked, knowing he really shouldn’t have, but Blurr shook his helm.

“We live on a small ship, Drift.”

Drift sighed, lying back down and wrapping himself around the racer’s light frame. “It wasn’t right. I’m… grateful? I guess. I got to see what I was fighting for. I got to see that it wasn’t what Megatron was fighting for anymore, and hadn’t been in a long time.” He shrugged one shoulder, then shifted around, nibbling at Blurr’s neck cables while he thought.

“A captive’s attachment to his jailer?” Blurr asked.

“Maybe? Sort of? I… cared about him. I felt bad about betraying him. The guilt over causing his death has never left me.”

“He’s not dead,” the racer whispered, nuzzling one of Drift’s finials.

“Guess not. Still.”

They fell silent, and Drift burrowed against Blurr for a few minutes. “He said that if I could defeat him, I could leave.”

“A lie.”

“A false hope while he showed me the city. Tried to get me to _want_ to stay. Then went and beat my aft daily, and I _let_ him.” Drift paused. “Know how rage can translate to lust.” It wasn’t a question but Blurr nodded. “Know how humiliation can make you want to hurt back. But he just… opened to me when I pushed. Screaming my name and begging for more. All that ‘no shame in pleasure’ slag.”

Blurr chuckled. “Can’t argue with him on that point.”

Drift was struck by the sudden realization. Blurr and Wing were damn similar in that aspect. Wing had more notions about where and when was ‘proper’ to interface, but he was just as much a hedonist as Blurr. He wasn’t sure that was a good thing to point out to the racer, or what it said about why he was so drawn to Blurr despite the sadistically comical gap in their pre-war social classes.

“I started it, but then he used it. Got all emotional. It wasn’t just pleasure or blowing off steam.”

“That what we are?” Blurr asked softly, voice a raw tone Drift hadn’t heard before. “Release.”

Drift actually gave it some thought, then shook his helm. If Blurr were _only_ the pleasure they wrung out of one another, he wouldn’t be hiding in the racer’s quarters, feeling like it was the only safe place away from Wing on the entire ship. He didn’t really want to think about what _that_ meant just yet either.

At least the response pleased Blurr, if the soft rumble and little kiss to Drift’s neck were anything to go by. “So I pegged him right then? Good intentions, maybe even the best from his perspective, but his methods sucked slag.”

Drift nodded. “Not a bad mech. I just never had a choice. I was a foregone conclusion for him. He built this pretty fantasy around rescuing me, then gently hedged me in. Don’t even know if he can see it was wrong.” He shook his helm, anger at himself burning in a hard knot under his spark. “Still fragging want him. Never have stopped wondering what could have been. If I’d really been free.”

Blurr’s helm pulled back, and Drift’s gaze was pulled to the clear blue optics. “You’re free now. So what do you want to do?”

Drift blinked.

“You have choices now. We can drop the slagger out the airlock if you want to.” Blurr grinned. “Or like, seduce the slag out of him, then dump him on an asteroid.”

Drift tipped his helm. “Or see if he wants to stay and form something real?”

Blurr purred, shifting to slide his body against Drift’s. “Know how I like sharing with you. Or being shared by you. Or sharing you~”

Drift smiled too, and rolled over the racer, pushing a knee between sleek thighs. “Not too fast. Want him to actually work for it.” He needed to see that effort. He needed Wing to _get_ it.

“His turn to prove himself,” Blurr agreed.

~ | ~

Wing’s third day with the Wreckers turned out to be quite different than the first -which was started late and full of interrogation and invasive (if necessary) medical scans- and the second -which was spent mostly alone but for the random, more-intrusive-than-the-scans visits from Wreckers to quiz Wing on everything from his early life to his intentions with Drift.

Morning energon was as boisterous as the day before, but this time Drift stayed. When Blurr dropped in that incredibly graceful slump of his into a chair by Wing and struck up a conversation, Drift sat as well. Wing’s spark thrummed, and though he and Blurr dominated the conversation, Drift participated. Others gathered round, and then the sordid stories of conquest, both on and off the battlefield started.

Blurr brought up Wing and Drift’s early sparring sessions, but instead of shutting down, Drift laughed and told of the time Wing had accidentally launched him across the mats. Wing ducked his helm and apologized again as his face heated.

Sparring as an activity was then decided upon, and en mass they moved to the training room. It was Blurr that took the practice staves off the wall and squared off against Wing, but Wing could see Drift in the racer’s stance.

“Reason I’m a Wrecker, Pretty,” Blurr warned.

Off to the side Drift snorted. “His plating’s really light. Dents easy. Don’t throw him into any walls or we’ll be stuck listening to Springer rant on about playing too rough with each other.”

“Again,” Twin Twist added.

Wing thought he was ready, but when Blurr moved he practically disappeared. Wing pushed himself for the first time in ages, dancing on instinct and vorns upon vorns of training, yet light, almost playfully mocking strikes caught him so often that he ended up laughing and holding a hand up to stop the round.

“I think I’m outmatched in speed. You’ve killed me with a thousand tiny cuts.”

Blurr snickered. “Drift said I should rely on my strengths.” A shrug. “Which isn’t strength.”

Wing nodded. “Can you move slower? I’d like to see your form.”

Blurr’s expression went sultry as he posed. “For you, sweetling? Anything.”

“Primus.”

“Yeah.” Topspin smacked his brother’s arm. “Come on. I know how this is going to go.”

“But I like watching,” Twin Twist whined as they moved off to start their own workout.

In the background, off in a specially modified room that only managed to muffle the report, the one named Perceptor’s rifle sounded. Wing moved first this time, swinging into an attack that had Blurr bouncing out of the way with a giggle. He met Wing’s next attack, however, movements matched to Wing’s speed. An impressive display of control, really. He also moved with a natural grace, but his return attacks lacked power. Wing couldn’t tell if Drift just hadn’t made Blurr take the training seriously, or if he really lacked the physical strength. It seemed counter-intuitive to put a mech that couldn’t defend himself in close quarters on a special forces team.

Then suddenly Blurr was right up against Wing, ex-vent brushing his lips with warm air. “And now you’re dead,” he purred, tapping the deactivated hilt of a vibro-blade against the lateral transformation seam of Wing’s chest.

“I feel quite alive.”

The purr intensified, the unique, clear blue of Blurr’s optics shading slightly darker.

A whistle rent the air, and all activity ceased instantly. Blurr went from melting against Wing to tense, optics clear and locked on Kup, who stood by the door, with such focus that Wing felt abandoned and bereft.

“New guy. To your quarters. Wreckers. Briefing room.” The Wreckers began filing out before Kup even finished speaking.

“I can help,” Wing said.

“Sure can. By gettin’ yer aft to your room and keeping it there so I can see yer trustworthy enough to let stay on my boat with my brats.”

Wing bowed his helm. Fair enough, though he gave Drift a concerned look as they parted ways at an intersection. Drift smiled reassuringly, which nearly stole Wing’s breath, then turned away. Kup was eying him, so Wing hurried off, determined to prove he could obey and be trusted. He would do _anything_ if it meant Drift smiling at him more.

~ | ~

Whatever Wing was expecting once the Wreckers returned from their mission, it wasn’t for Blurr to show up on his doorstep, throw himself into Wing’s arms, and kiss him with a desperation that resonated right through his EM field.

“Drift?”

“Will live,” was the gasped response.

Will live, but was hurt? Wing wanted to go to him, but Blurr pulled at him, moving toward the berth. He _whimpered_ , and Wing realized that if Blurr was here it was because he couldn’t be beside Drift.

“He won’t mind us-”

“No.”

Then Blurr’s mouth and hands were on Wing, pushing him down to the berth. He was surprised when Blurr’s knee pushed between his legs, intent clear. He had thought, given Drift’s preferences, that Blurr was more of a valve mech. Which probably only pointed to the fact that he’d given the topic entirely too much thought.

“I enjoy sharing pleasure,” Wing whispered, hands sliding over impossibly smooth plating, flawless despite the smudges of soot. He could feel the heat radiating off Blurr, and knew it wasn’t all arousal. There was the scent of ion-charge, smoke. Battle. Violence.

“Me too.” Blurr’s mouth was hot on Wing’s neck, sharp fangs scraping over the sensitive cables to make him shiver.

“I mean,” Wing said, gripping Blurr’s helm to pull him back, force their gazes together so he _knew_ the racer was listening, “that I don’t want a hard coupling that’s nothing more than you burning off a combat high.”

Blurr whimpered again, distressed. “Not why I came to _you_.”

Meaning he could have gone to any of his teammates and had something meaningless instead. Wing nodded, tugging Blurr down into a softer kiss before releasing his helm. He swallowed all the questions he wanted to ask, and let himself get lost in the moment. Blurr’s hands were never rough on him. He didn’t even seem particularly hurried now that he knew Wing wasn’t going to push him away.

Arousal built slowly. Hands exploring and mouths locked in deep kisses. Blurr was a light, warm weight holding Wing to the berth as he rocked just enough to rub their bodies together. Blurr made small sounds, pleasured little sighs that made Wing want more just to hear him get louder. It was he that reached for their panels, fingers sliding under a gap in Blurr’s plating until he found the manual catch.

There was a low purr as Blurr’s spike extended into Wing’s hand.

“Finally, yes?” Wing smiled. “I’ve wanted you since you first offered.”

Blurr grinned against Wing’s lips, then bit at the lower one teasingly. “Then open up and let me in.”

Wing complied, spreading his legs more and canting his hips up in blatant invitation. Blurr smiled as he slid his spike in, but it didn’t quite reach his optics. Wing’s vents cycled faster, pleasure rolling up into his spark, but he too, couldn’t forget that Drift’s injury -whatever the nature of it was- was what drove them together. Blurr looked away, mouth trailing kisses out to one of the flares on Wing’s helm.

The slow pace never picked up. Blurr ground into Wing with long, even thrusts. They set off tiny chains of micro explosions over his sensornet, made his vents catch in gasps. Blurr’s hands tightened and relaxed with their rhythm. He was holding back, Wing realized, dragging their interfacing out. He forced himself to relax because he didn’t want it to end so soon either. If it did, he’d have to think, and Blurr was doing such a nice job of scattering Wing’s thoughts and worries.

The charge built inexorably, despite their efforts. Wing could barely do more than cling to Blurr, their vents roaring, heat pouring off their bodies. Blurr gasped, babbling indistinct half-formed words into his audial that resolved into, “I can’t. Oh, Primus, I can’t. I can’t. I-”

He cut off, body tensing, trembling on a final deep thrust. Wing’s valve spasmed as the nodes were washed over by the hot gush of release. He choked out a sharp cry, his own control snapping. Blurr rocked his hips, easing them both through the overload, then went strutless over Wing’s chest.

It was a few minutes before Wing realized the racer had lost consciousness.

Lucky Blurr.

~ | ~

Drift was glad to escape isolation. Being stuck alone for the three nights post-battle after getting gassed by some odd weapon gave him way too much time alone with his thoughts. He had no doubts about who Blurr would have gone to for comfort this time, which only gave him even more to think and wonder about. On the plus side, at least he now had a better idea of what he wanted. Assuming Wing would put the effort in and would be willing to accept Blurr as part of the deal, Drift wanted him. He wanted to see where this could lead before they all ended up on the wrong side of a plasma bolt.

Drift had just enough time when he entered the common room and before Blurr noticed him to take in the fact that he was curled into Wing’s side, sharing a datapad. Then Blurr looked up and Drift couldn’t brace fast enough before he was tackled and had an arm-load of enthusiastic racer knocking him back against the doorframe.

“Hey, gorgeous! Feeling all better?”

Drift snickered, and put Blurr back on his feet. “It was isolation, not injury.”

“Yeah, but isolation sucks slag.”

Drift looked up at Wing as he approached and gave him a lopsided grin. “Thanks for looking after my sparkling.”

“Hey!”

“He was no trouble,” Wing snickered, reaching out to tweak a helm wing.

“I’m going to tie you both down to a berth and show you how much of a sparkling I really am.”

Drift arched an optic ridge, and stared at the racer for a moment. Wing snickered again.

“Oh, shut up, you know what I mean.” Blurr plucked the datapad out of Wing’s hand, and went back to the sofa, sitting in the middle. “You’ll like this, Drift. Wing was showing me the different forms and positions for his style of sword fighting.”

Drift followed, taking one side while Wing sat on the other. “Gonna become a swordsmech too, huh?”

“Probably not, but it’s interesting.”

“Blurr’s a rather quick study,” Wing told Drift, a slight but pleased smile on his face.

“Racer.”

“Shh. He’s carefully cultivated this irresponsible playbot reputation.” Drift grinned at the light slap Blurr gave him, and let a single finger tick over the vent slats on one of his thighs. “Don’t want to go around ruining it by letting the others know he’s actually kinda smart.”

“I’m going to bite you,” Blurr said, thumb sweeping the screen to move to the next image and description.

“Kinky,” Wing murmured.

Drift stopped teasing Blurr’s leg. There’d been no hint back that they could leave and interface, and Drift wasn’t sure he actually wanted to take that step with Wing just yet. The whole situation needed time. The fantasies were nice, he told himself, but taking Wing to his berth without even a conversation wasn’t going to make anything better than it’d been before.

Drift wanted Wing to understand, not just assume they were going to be together. He kept reminding himself of the fact that he _could_ walk away this time. He could say no. He _would_ decide for himself when he was ready to interface with Wing.

“You two have fun. I’m going to recharge in a normal berth.”

Blurr looked up, optics sharp. “You’re ok?”

Drift nodded, standing. “Tired. Didn’t recharge that great.”

“I’m sure we can entertain ourselves,” Wing said with a smile. “Comm- Well, I guess comm Blurr if you need anything, but he can relay the message, or I can help him.”

Drift nodded again, then left. The hopeful eagerness was almost painful to hear, and he wondered if he wasn’t being a little cruel to Wing, holding him at arm’s length the way he was.

// _If you need something, comm **me**_ ,// Blurr said. // _I’ll come up with an excuse if you don’t want him to know._ //

//Thought you two were getting along good?//

// _We might become friends even, but this is about you, Drift._ //

That was odd and made Drift feel… weirdly good, if a bit squirmy under his plating. //Don’t want to cause friction.//

Blurr chuckled lightly over the comm. // _Try being selfish for five minutes, love. If there’s friction between Wing and me, it’s his problem. What do **you** want?_ //

Drift slipped into Blurr’s quarters, and crossed to the berth. //Fine. I’m in your room. Come alone and wake me in a couple hours.// There was a purr of acknowledgement, then the line was closed. Drift settled on the berth, balling up Blurr’s blanket. He could just barely catch the scent of the polish the racer liked when he buried his face in it.

~ | ~

Drift jerked back as Wing tried to kiss him. Blurr was across the training room floor before even he realized he was moving, a low, threatening growl rumbling up from deep in his chest. He wasn’t sure who looked more surprised between the two of them at his reaction.

“I- I don’t understand.” Wing stepped back, face a mask of hurt and confusion. “I thought- Blurr, I-”

“Drift?” Blurr asked, optics locked on Wing’s.

“Don’t need a protector,” Drift grumbled, but it lacked the usual ring of scuffed pride.

Wing bit at his lip. “I don’t understand.”

“Not ready for that. Not sure if I ever will be,” Drift said.

Wing’s optics went incredibly wide. “But- I- We-”

“There isn’t a ‘we’, Wing. Never was. I was your prisoner.”

“But I love you!”

Blurr couldn’t hold back a hiss. That was low, and he hissed at Drift too, when his hand curled around his upper arm. “That’s manipulation!”

“What?! No!” Wing’s optics overflowed, but he stepped back, helm shaking. He seemed to realize how crying _just then_ could be taken, and hurriedly wiped at his face. “Please. I never meant to upset either of you.”

//Relax, Blurr. I can handle him. Just surprised me is all. He hasn’t tried to so much as hug me all week. Thought he got it.//

Blurr huffed, but gave himself a shake and stepped back. Drift could fight his own battles, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to deck Wing for trying to kiss him when it wasn’t welcomed yet.

“Please help me understand?”

“Asked you before why you came looking for me,” Drift said. “I don’t get it.”

“I’ve told you before, Drift. You’re worthy of so much more than you give yourself credit for.”

Blurr noted how a few others had stopped and were watching too. He gestured for everyone to just stay back. If it came to it, Blurr wasn’t sure who would win if Wing tried to take on Drift alone, but no one ever said Wreckers fought fair. They could wait though. It didn’t seem like Wing would attack. He looked more likely to fold into a sobbing puddle of broken-sparked misery.

“What did you expect when you came after me?” Drift asked, his voice calmer than Blurr felt by light-years.

Wing glanced around. “Maybe we could-”

“No. Here. Now.” Drift crossed his arms over his chest.

Wing hesitated, optics bouncing around to the other Wreckers, teeth worrying at this lower lip. “That we could finally be together if I found you.”

“Even stop for half a second to think if I’d want that?”

The tears spilled over again, and even Blurr felt bad for how much Wing must be hurting just then. “You… don’t?”

Drift shook his helm and shrugged. “I don’t know.” He looked at Blurr, then back to Wing. “Like that I can tell him no, and he’ll get off me.”

“I accepted it when you told me no,” Wing protested. “I wouldn’t ever force a mech! I never forced you. You kissed me first, Drift!”

“Not saying you forced me. Just never could say no. I couldn’t walk away. I couldn’t leave.” Drift gestured to the other Wreckers. “I can leave all of this any time I want. Each one of them can too. _You_ can leave this. Say the word and we’ll tell Springer. The next space station we come to, you’ll be dropped off.”

“I don’t want to go! I want to be with you. It’s all I ever wanted from the moment you first told me your name.”

Blurr thought the lip wibble alone might break his spark, and hoped Drift kept managing this steady, even tone he was using. If it was gutting Blurr, then hopefully it was getting through to Wing. If Wing was worth it, he _would_ get it, and Blurr _really_ wanted him to because he really did like Wing. He was interesting, passionate. Fun. It would be nice to let his feelings grow and see where things went, but Blurr wasn’t going to remain lovers with a mech that couldn’t see how he’d hurt another, even if it hadn’t been on purpose.

Drift shook his helm. “I’m trying, Wing. It wasn’t all bad. Not that part anyways. I… care about you. I don’t want to be your prisoner again though.”

Wing visibly tried to rein his emotions in, and nodded. There was still a lot of confusion on his face, but Blurr didn’t know what else could be said. Drift apparently didn’t either, because as Wing turned and walked out the door, he didn’t stop him.

“And next week on _As the Universe Tilts_ …” Whirl said wryly into the following silence.

Blurr looked to Drift, tipping his helm, waiting.

“I need a drink,” Drift said, and headed for the door.

“Drinking’s good. Let’s all drink.” Twin Twist bounded after Drift, his twin shaking his helm and following too.

Blurr frowned, resisted the urge to go after Wing, and decided that Perceptor had the right idea. Shooting things was better than getting cratered today.

~ | ~

Wing avoided everyone for days, creeping out late at night for energon, and spending his waking hours going over every memory he had from when Drift was in New Crystal City.

He could remember every word Drift had ever spoken. Every gasp in the dark. Every soft moan of pleasure.

Every protest that New Crystal City would never be his home.

Every claim that it was a gilded cage and he would never be happy there.

Wing wept. Spark-wrenching, gulping sobs as he drowned in guilt for crimes he’d never even known he’d committed.

He waited until he thought it would be late enough to avoid most of the Wreckers, then left his room. This time, however, he went in search of Springer instead of energon. The office door was shut, but Wing knocked anyway, and only a moment later it slid open to reveal not one, but two green mechs.

“May I come in?” Wing asked.

Kup waved him in, shifting his chair to the side a little to make room in the small office for Wing to slide into the other seat in front of Springer’s desk. “Been a quiet few days.”

Wing sat and tried not to fidget. “I was doing a lot of thinking.”

“Before you get going,” Springer cut in, “have you spoken to Drift?”

“Uh… no. I don’t want to push- Well, it’s hardly funny.”

Kup flapped a hand at Wing and shook his helm. “Kid, he’s tougher than that. We ain’t dropping you off anywhere until you’ve talked to Drift, cuz I sure as hot melted slag don’t want to have him go hieing off and chasing after you.”

“I don’t think-”

“Are you kidding me?” Springer cut in again, then pointed at the door. “Go finish out this little drama and stop being a coward. We’ll hit a space station in a few days and if you still want off, you can go, but Kup’s right. Out.”

Wing left, almost in a daze, the door shutting behind him.

Coward?

Was it cowardice to want to just leave quietly? To avoid bringing more grief down on Drift, to stay away so he wasn’t accidentally manipulating his emotions? Because Wing wasn’t at all sure he could do this without breaking down again.

But no. No, he _was_ being a coward, because if nothing else, he certainly owed Drift an apology, and he owed Blurr a goodbye. He’d been kind to Wing despite everything.

Drift’s door went unanswered, so Wing went to Blurr’s. It was answered by the racer, who gave Wing a slight smile, then stepped back to let him in. Drift was sitting cross-legged on the berth. Neither appeared to be surprised to see him.

Wing bit his lip, stepping in just far enough to let the door shut behind him. He _should_ kneel, but Drift was never comfortable with such displays, and Wing wasn’t sure he could call himself a Knight any longer. “I have thought on all you said,” he began, voice automatically more formal. “I apologize for the wrongs I visited upon you. I cannot regret finding you, but I really do see now that I handled it badly. Much worse than I had thought.”

Wing inhaled a shuddering breath, trying to steady himself, his voice -which had begun to quaver. “I-” He cycled his vents again. “You were a prisoner. I shouldn’t have allowed a physical relationship, and my only excuse is that I…” No, he couldn’t say that. “I had this idea of-”

Wing heaved a sigh, and Blurr snickered softly over a quiet, encouraging purr. One corner of Drift’s mouth curved up just a little bit. “I was selfish. I wanted you, and I thought all these… things, and then you kissed me, and I constructed this fantasy without your consent.” The grins faded with Wing’s words. “I was wrong, and I hurt you, and I _am_ sorry for that, but I’m not sorry for loving you.

“However, a large part of love is choice, so I ask you, Drift. Should I go? Or may I stay and can we try a new beginning?” Wing glanced at Blurr. “The three of us?”

Silence fell, and Wing thought his spark was going to pound its way free of its crystal while he waited. Rejection… would hurt, but was fine, but he couldn’t help but hope, and that was even worse than bracing to be sent away. Which he was determined to do with as much stolid dignity as he could muster. Drift certainly didn’t deserve his dramatics.

“I forgot how…”

“Wordy?” Blurr supplied as Drift trailed off.

Drift stood from the berth, setting aside the datapad that’d been sitting ignored in his lap since Wing arrived. “Formal,” he smiled. “A simple, ‘I slagged up, Drift, and I’m sorry’, would have worked fine.”

“Now you tell me,” Wing said, trying to chuckle as the tension seemed to ease, but the room began to blear.

Drift shrugged. “Guess I needed to hear that you really understand it too.” He reached out for Wing’s shoulder. “You saved me. I wanted you then, and I want you now, it was just…”

“A really fragged up situation that I should have freed you from so you could have at least chosen me for yourself instead of being isolated and marked as you were.”

“Primus, kiss him already, or I will!”

“Always in a fraggin’ hurry, that one.” Drift pulled Wing closer.

“I think he’s rather charming and adorable.”

Drift’s lips met Wing’s, and Wing melted against him, all banter and joking forgotten in that instant. Drift stepped closer, turning, nudging Wing back until his legs bumped the side of the berth. They folded down onto it, mouths locked together in a slow, deep kiss.

Wing smiled as they shifted and scooted around into a better position, holding Drift close against him. His spark sang, energy flaring bright and happy through his field. “Thank you.” His hands stroked down the length of Drift’s back to grip his hips, legs falling open in invitation. “It will be so much better this time. I promise.”

Drift gave him that lopsided grin of his, then dipped down into another kiss. Wing drew up his knees and wound his arms around Drift’s neck, arching up for more contact. Warmth flowed from his spark outward, leaving a tingling buzz in its wake.

It was easy. It had always been so easy with Drift. The universe and its cares fell away, replaced by the passion, the utter sweet rightness of their coming together, and it was no different this time. Years and distance, death and mistakes faded and disappeared. Hands found all the right places to touch. Fingers remembered all the nooks to delve into, which cable could be tugged to bring a soft moan, which sensor cluster could be teased to earn a needy whimper.

Time ceased to be. There was only the synchronous rhythm, the heat and energy blossoming between them. It couldn't last forever, but they both tried, resisting that final bright end until the ecstasy could no longer be denied. It burst over Wing first, but he pulled Drift with him.

They were twined together, still panting, when Wing finally realized that Blurr wasn’t in the room with them. He smiled, grateful for the chance to be with Drift alone this first time. He opened his mouth to ask Drift to comm Blurr, but he was already in recharge, his systems quieting, his fingers curled into armor gaps that securely anchored Wing against him.

Wing smiled, and let himself relax into recharge. He would thank Blurr in the morning.

~ | ~

Blurr took his turn hiding out for a couple days so Drift and Wing could have some time to find their new balance. He’d arranged it with Drift, so it was known that he wasn’t off sulking and feeling displaced. He spent his time with Kup, talking about how the war was totally getting in the way of his love life, and hearing more embellished tales than he could possibly transcribe even with his ability to scrawl the glyphs as fast as the datapad could pick up the stylus’ movements.

He had spent some time with the other Wreckers, even recharging one night with the twins, then the next morning tormenting Whirl until he found that point where the threat of violence became imminent damage. Blurr was faster than Whirl, but Whirl was tenacious.

Luckily, high grade can solve all sorts of problems.

Maybe not for Perceptor though. Blurr leaned on the edge of the table, arms folded, rocking side to side balanced on his heels. “I’d offer to help~”

“I do enjoy solving puzzles. This is just another challenge.”

“You’re smart, Perce, you’ll figure it out.” Blurr beamed, aft waggling as Perceptor cast a narrowed optic his way. “I mean that.”

A loud sigh. “Your confidence is bolstering, however, your bored and jittery presence is distracting.”

“See, Percy! This is why I like you. You’re telling me to go away, but you’re so fracking polite about it, I almost feel bad for annoying you, but as you pointed out, I _am_ bored, and I can’t possibly poke at Whirl again, I don’t think he’s quite over earlier. Despite the high grade.” The door opened behind Blurr, but he was too busy holding Perceptor’s glare with a cheery smile to look.

The glare turned into a smirk just before a sharp _crack_ reverberated up from Blurr’s aft.

He really didn’t squeak while choking back a yelp. That never happened, though he _might_ have made some small sound as he was spun around and slung over a shoulder.

“Hi, Drift,” he said to Drift’s aft.

“I’ll keep him busy.”

“I would appreciate that,” Perceptor replied.

Blurr waved at Perceptor as Drift turned and hauled him out. He wasn’t put down until they reached his quarters, where he was dumped unceremoniously next to Wing on the berth.

“And where have you been?”

“Could’ve commed me,” Blurr replied, then reached up to pull Wing down into a brief kiss as Drift crawled up along his other side. “Was just giving you both a little room.”

“It was appreciated,” Wing smiled. “But now we want you home.”

Drift nuzzled against Blurr’s helm wing, and Blurr hummed quietly, letting his optics shut.

“Well, I _was_ really bored. And Perceptor didn’t need my help~”

“I have something you can help me with.”

Wing snickered at Drift’s too-suggestive tone, then tucked his face into Blurr’s neck as Blurr grabbed Drift’s helm to haul him into a hard kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> **([Table of Contents](http://ladydragon76.livejournal.com/6214.html) ) ******


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